


The Fish Tank Boy

by Little_Knight_Mik



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angsty Dave is angsty, IDK Dave in a giant fishtank, Let's call it angst for now, M/M, Mermaidstuck, Merman Dave, More character and additional tags to be added, More tags to be added, Post-scratch as humans, Pre-scratch as merpeople, Sirens are evil, Wait would it even count as angst?, Would mentions of death count as major character death? IDK, a bit of angst?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 13:23:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Knight_Mik/pseuds/Little_Knight_Mik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're Dave the Majestic Salmon Boy - or so you like to call yourself - and you're certain the remaining oil clogging your gills is killing you. It has to be; there's no other explanation for seeing Bro's face, for hearing him tell you to breathe and that you'll be okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, pretty much all the post-scratch characters are human while the pre-scratch characters are merpeople. We good with that? We're good with that. I'll add more tags as I go along in regards to characters and events. Also a bit of a short prologue, but hopefully the other chapters will come out longer :3

It's getting harder and harder to breathe, the combination of minimal water and a fuckton of sludge slowly sending you into a small panic attack. It's difficult to drag yourself along the sand - it's too dry, too loose - and all you can do is sit there and choke as you pray for the tide to rise and drag you back out.

Rose had warned you, an annoying part of you says. She said not to go out today, that the waters weren't fit for gathering. You just had to ignore her and swim out, telling her to not mistake you for an idiot - that you weren't dumb enough to get caught in the oil spill. Man, do you feel like a douche right now. If you make it back, you're going to heed every warning the flighty broad gives you. Well, maybe not  _every_ warning; but still!

You wonder if there are any people out today. You can't exactly see with the sun constantly in your eyes - your stupid, sensitive eyes that can't handle coming up for a peek during daylight. You can't hear anyone coming, either, so for now you're pretty sure you're screwed. Great.

You're able to just get by with the deep breaths that swallow small amounts of air, but you can't do this forever. Oxygen will eventually suffocate you, and the oil wont wash off without water. The tide is slowly rising, though - you can feel the water slowly creeping up your tail, trying to reach for your gills - and you almost let out a squeak of relief when you feel it arrive at your hips. The squeak is cut off by a sudden choking fit, coughs tearing out of your throat as your hands fly to your neck in a hasty attempt to get rid of the oil. Need to breathe, need to breathe,  _need to_ _breathe_...

The tide's not rising fast enough, and you're certain you just heard a shout from further down the beach. You're tempted to open your eyes and see who it was, to try and call for help, but damn it the sun is too bright and you can hardly move with how much you're choking and  _God damn it!_

You can hear more shouts, mostly a girl saying a name beginning with D, and for a second you think someone might be calling for you. You wonder how the hell Jade or Rose had managed to find you without getting their gills clogged like you have, but stop when you realise that that wasn't one of the girls who just called out. You can't place the voice, you're pretty sure the name is heading in a different direction from yours, and your more than certain you're hearing feet running on sand than a body sliding on it - that pretty much rules out a merperson finding you.

Someone stops beside you, a shadow falling over your face, and you can't hear them over your coughs and gags. You can hear a definite, "Holy shit," when you manage to get a small bit of air in, jumping at the fingers that run over your tail experimentally. You're tempted to try and lift the tail, to hit the guy with your fin as had as you can, but you don't have the strength for it. The fingers that had touched your tail are now moving one of your hands away from a set of gills, a frantic shout for someone to bring him a waterbottle after a second of what you can assume is examination. Your arm is freed as he grabs a bottle from someone (you think that's what he's done, at least), and soon enough you're feeling chilly water run over your thoat and through your gills. Some of the water washes away the oil, but not all of it is gone - it's enough for you to take in a breath, though, and that's all you need right now.

Soon enough the water stops and you're left virtually holding your breath as you wait for more. It only takes a few seconds and a couple of other 'holy shit's for more water to be dumped on you. You're thankful, finally able to open your eyes as more people seem to gather around you and hide the light from your eyes. You're not sure if you regret the choice to do so, though.

You're Dave the Majestic Salmon Boy - or so you like to call yourself - and you're certain the remaining oil clogging your gills is killing you. It has to be; there's no other explanation for seeing Bro's face, for hearing him tell you to breathe and that you'll be okay.

You're about to ask him something - you don't know what; your mind is struggling to register his face as anything other than Bro - but your voice comes to an abrupt stop as the world crashes down on you.

* * *

Your name is Dirk Strider, and you can't even begin to believe what is happening right now. Jane's freaking out and running back and forth between you and the water to keep the plastic bottle filled and ready to use, Roxy's caught between laughing and completely flipping her shit over what she's seeing, and Jake is just trying to figure out what to do while he stands there flailing a little; but none of that compares to the fact that  _there is a fucking half-fish boy covered in oil and laying unconscious in front of you_.

Jane brings the bottle back, asking if he'll be okay, but you don't say anything as you pour more water over his gills. He breathes deeper as you do it, trying to get as much of it in his system. You wonder how long he's been like this - the nearest oil spill is too far for the first few miles of water here to be affected, and it's moving at a pretty slow rate. You shake your head; now's not the time to be thinking about this and wondering how the poor kid could've been covered with the stuff in the first place.

"Roxy," you say, looking to her as Jane takes the bottle to fill it again. "You still have that giant fish tank at your place, right?"

Almost immediately Roxy stops her laughing fit, pointing at you with a grin. "We do," she tells you. "But I sure as hell am not putting him in it. You  _know_ what happened to the last dozen fish Mom and I put in there."

The infamous tank spill, you recall. You're sure such a thing wont happen with the merman, though. "Just until we clean him up," you suggest. "Pouring bottled water over him wont exactly get rid of the oil, you know."

Jake finally takes it upon himself to stop panicking, agreeing with you as soon as he does. "Dirk has a point," he says, kneeling down on the other side of the fish boy. "What if he gets sick from the stuff and he can't get the proper help?"

"Pretty sure the only kind of sick you can get from oil is death, Jakey."

"Oh." He blinks, unsure of what to say to Roxy's response. "Well... Still, wouldn't there be something there to help clean him up?"

He gets a pout in return, but deep down you're hoping that Roxy considers this, at least. A lapse of silence passes, filled with only Jane's panicking as she hurries back and forth with the bottle and waits as you pour it over the blonde's gills. He takes in another deep breath, which seems to prompt Roxy into answering.

" _Fine_ ," she huffs. "You better have a good explanation for Mom, though. And D, while you're at it." Crap, you'd forgotten about your bro. You'll just have to deal with that when it happens, you tell yourself.

"I will," you assure her, sliding your arms under the merman and attempting to lift him. It's pretty difficult - the tail is pretty much twice as heavy as the rest of him, and you can kinda see why he couldn't get back in the water in the first place. "Jake, help me lift him," you command with a grunt, attempting to lift him on your own before Jake hurries over and helps you. It's a slow journey back to the house, and every so often you need Jane to fill up the bottle and dump water on the kid. Roxy's busy trying to call her mom, eventually getting hold of her and asking her to fill the tank downstairs. She doesn't get asked any questions, which you find to be sort of a relief; the last thing you need is for the woman to refuse thanks to an excuse she'd deem ridiculous.

You manage to stumble off of the beach, telling Jane to pour the water sparingly now, and the five minute walk from the beach to the house is doubled with the extra weight. Roxy runs ahead when the house comes into view, opening to door and waiting for you as you and Jake clumsily carry the merman inside. You walk past your bro on the way, barely responding to his quirked brow and confused hum, and make your way to the basement where Roxy's mom is just about done filling up the tank. The water comes from the ocean, that much you know, but Mom Lalonde refuses to let you investigate and figure out how she gets the water in and out within minutes. You shake your head, ridding yourself of the urge to search, and manage to get the merman into the water after awkwardly walking up the stairs and attempting not to just dump him unceremoniously. Soon enough he's breathing a little more than when you were pouring water over him, and you and Jake let out simultaneous sighs of relief. You join Roxy and Jane as they watch the merman drift around, and then turn to face Mom and Bro to answer their unasked questions.

This iss going to be a very awkward and long explanation; you know it.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mom Lalonde subtly demands Dave put on a shirt and Dirk introduces his friends to Dave.

The sound of annoying fingers tapping on glass brings you away from your sleep. You open your eyes, squinting at the light shining from above you, and instinctively swim deeper into the water. You bump into something hard as you do, hitting your head and stopping with a frown. You open your eyes wider, ignoring the light, and stare dumbly at the floor beneath you. It's not sand - that much you can tell - and it doesn't look like rocks, either. If anything, it looks like a seal of some sort.

Oh hell no...

You look up, toward the source of the tapping, and immediately swim backwards - far enough to hit the other side of whatever you're stuck in. There's a human girl standing there, blonde and giggling with a scarf wrapped around her neck, with a woman beside her who appears just as blonde. She doesn't look as childish as the girl, though; if anything, she looks like she's analysing you. She reminds you of Rose, you think. You don't know if this is a good thing.

The taller blonde shakes her head at the smaller, and immediately she stops tapping the glass. She still keeps her smile, though, and gives you the universal hand gesture for  _Come say hi_. You aren't sure if you should obey, and before you can decide a door behind them opens; four more people are coming into the room. You stay where you are, back pressed against what you assume is glass as they come to a stop by the blondes. Your eyes immediately fall on the Bro-lookalike, and all you can do is try to hold back your panic as they start to discuss something you can't hear. There's no lid on this thing - you can come up and talk to them if you want, ableit you'll be a few heads higher than the tall man - and you're tempted slightly to swim up and eavesdrop on them. It wouldn't hurt to try, would it?

Curious, you begin to push yourself up the glass and slowly bring your head out of the water, keeping your gills under so you can breathe easily. You can still feel some oil in there, swirling around a refusing to leave. You're able to easily ignore it, though; it's not causing any coughing fits or cutting off your breathing. You can sort of hear them - they're talking in hushed tones - and from the sounds of it they're talking about you. You can't see very well - it turns out that the light is a giant lightbulb keeping your glass prison illuminated - and all you have to go on is a few quiet voices and fast arguments. It's annoying, your hands clenching tightly by your sides, and all of a sudden they've stopped. It's quiet again, and you wonder exactly what they're doing.

"Can you understand us?"

That voice must've been the woman - it sounds too mature and confident to be one of the younger girls. Instead of confirming or denying, you merely reply with a grouchy, "It's too bright."

They start muttering again, leaving you to growl to yourself and go back under in a huff. You head for the furthest side of your prison, huddling in on yourself at the bottom and keeping your back to them. You can at least open your eyes here, and you can clearly see more of the outside of your prison. It looks like a closed-off room, with no doors aside from the one the four had come through earlier. It looks too clean for a human area - too clean from what you've seen in your short life - and you're beginning to suspect that something might be up. What if they're one of those humans who performed experiments? You'd heard of them before - they're the reason Mituna was so crazy after his two-week absense - but you never really believed that you of all people would get caught by them.

Then again, you had been near-death and vulnerable on a beach. Anything was possible in that situation.

You blink, just now realising that one of the human teenagers is standing in front of you, observing you. He looks kind of like your best friend, John, only he's a lot more tan with green eyes and glasses. And really short pants. Wow. You certainly hadn't been expecting to see that.

He's calling out to someone - Strider, you see his lips form - and then he's pointing at you and grinning about something he's discovered. Both the Bro-lookalike and the tall man join him, staring at you (or so you think, it's hard to tell with those shades) and guaging their opinions. Soon enough, the taller one is shrugging and looking to the girls. The woman is saying something to him, crossing her arms in front of her chest in defiance. You know the look she's giving him - Rose gives you that look whenever you've done something stupid or when she wants something that you're being too much of a dick to give to her. The man groans and begins to walk out of the room, and soon he's followed by the John-lookalike and the girls. The woman looks to the Bro-lookalike, who tells her something - all you can catch is the word "watch" - and then she's nodding and handing him something red and clothy. He's thanking her, from what it looks like, and soon enough she leaves with the door shutting behind her.

Great. Stuck with your dead brother's lookalike. This won't be weird at all.

He walks over to one of the walls, a hand reaching for a white square on it, and he presses down on one of the shapes inside the square. Suddenly the room is dark; it's easier to see, your natural light shining as your eyes adjust easily. It's better to make him out now, really taking in the similaries between him and Bro. He begins to make his way back to the prison, taking off his shades as he does and setting them down somewhere before walking up what you assume is a small set of steps. He hangs his arms over the rails as he watches you with wide, awe-filled eyes, and all you can wonder is if he's actually staring at your glowing scales or not. He probably is, because he's muttered something under his breath and he's beckoning you over toward him. Okay. You can do that. No problem.

You surface quietly, slowly, and keep your eyes on him as you swim over. You stop halfway, moving your gaze to the red fabric in his hands. He blinks, remembering he was holding something, and holds it out to you a little. "Mom Lalonde wanted you to look somewhat decent with the girls around," he tells you. "Doesn't want them, and I quote, 'ogling every teenage girl's fantasy at their age'."

All you offer is a raised brow, but you take it from him anyway. There's not really much you can do aside from take it, anyway. You inspect it, noting that it looks like a hand-me-down tunic, and feel a little pleased that the woman at least got a colour that matches your tail. You slip it on carefully, frowning every time air gets caught underneath it, and finally you're just floating there with the tunic comfortably covering your torso.

"I'm Dirk, by the way," he goes on, earning your attention again. "Dirk Strider." Ah, so when the John-lookalike said "Strider", he was talking to this guy. "Got a name, fish boy?"

You give him a half-shrug, still a little wary. It's never going to stop being strange seeing your brother in front of you. "Dave," you reply. "Just Dave."

There's an awkward silence after that. It's pretty much filled with you staring at Dirk and Dirk staring at you. You're not sure if you should look away or say something, and it's tearing you up inside as you try to figure out what to do. One thing is for sure, though: You can't stop noticing the freckles on his face; freckles that Bro never had. That is the one thing you're keeping your focus on - one thing to keep the image of Bro out of your head right now.

He's leaning forward, trying to get a better look at you, and you can't help but shrink back and dive under again. Some of your tail's glow has been dulled by the tunic, as well as your shoulders', but the majority of the glow on your arms and fins are bright as ever. It makes it easy for him to see you, observe what you're doing, and you can feel the disappointed stare on you when you return to your previous spot, back to him and body hunched in on itself. You're certain he leaves after that - the light on the other side of the door tells you someone's coming in or going out, and soon enough the stare is gone. You swim around a little after a few minutes, then settle on the bottom of the prison and close your eyes.

* * *

You've been fascinated by the merman - Dave, he said his name is - ever since you saw him light up right like Rudolph's nose. Well, not entirely red, but enough to show where he was moving and what he was doing in the dark. The light patterns on his tail and fins had reminded you of the jellyfish Roxy used to keep in here, and all you want to do is sit there and watch the natural light show.

He's been a bit shy, though. You'd told Mom Lalonde to keep the lights off in the basement - his eyes are sensetive, you gathered, and pointed out that they're the same shade of red as Bro's. You can see him in there whenever you take a peek, wondering what he's doing, but he's all too aware of when the door opens and who might be behind it.

Today's going to be different, though. It's the fourth day into his stay, and you're certain it's about time he at least knew your friends' names. He responds to Jake weirdly whenever he sees him (it makes you a little jealous, admittedly, because how the hell can you compete with a supposedly mythical creature?), and he seems to look at Roxy in annoyance whenever she pokes the tank. Jane's too nervous to come near him, but he appears to like her best out of all four of you. Figures the distant one would be the favourite one.

The four of you walk up the steps, stopping at the rim of the tank, and wait patiently as Dave turns his attention to you. You wave, asking him to come up, and he does it while taking his sweet time. The minute he surfaces, he deadpans, "What can I do for you, freckles?"

You ignore his nickname/insult, gesturing to your friends. "I want to introduce you guys," you say. "Can't be fair that you and I only know each other."

He rolls his eyes but moves closer anyway. You look to the trio, and it's Roxy who introduces herself first. "Name's Roxy Lalonde," she says excitedly. You almost wouldn't be able to guess she's tipsy with how well she's holding herself together right now. "This is my house's basement you're in. Sorry we couldn't get you better accomidation on such short notice, merboy."

All he offers is a dismissive hand gesture before looking to Jane and Jake. Jake takes the stage, grinning at Dave. "I'm Jake English," he says in his Australian/British-mixed accent. God, you love it... "I'm one of the ones who carried you here. Dirk's the other one, in case you're wondering. Gotta say, mate, that tail of yours is _heavy_."

Dave raises a brow at him, but doesn't make a comment. Instead, he looks in the direction of Jane. The Crocker girl looks a little nervous, unsure of what to say to the merman. Roxy pats her shoulder encouragingly, telling her, "Take your time, Janey," before looking to Dave again. It doesn't take much longer for Jane to hold a hand out to him nervously, saying to him in her polite voice, "My name's Jane Crocker. How do you do?"

The merman looks taken aback by the gesture, and you're not sure if he's going to drag her in when he reaches for the outstretched hand. You let out a small breath you didn't even know you were holding, though, when he simply takes the hand and shakes it. Dave stays at this new, closer distance this time, seemingly comfortable with Jane at the front of the group. It's official, you decide. Dave likes Jane the most out of all of you.

"My, ah, my name's Dave," he says awkwardly. "And I guess I'm doing okay?"

"How're your gills doin'?" Roxy says immediately. "We still haven't gotten all of that oil out yet, y'know."

He frowns at her, moving back a little. Sheesh, Roxy, give him a minute to get used to the names and buddy-buddyness. "Still a little clogged, but it's not unbearable," he replies carefully. "I mean, I can still breathe pretty okay."

Roxy smiles at him with pride. "Great! So you'll be okay until we figure out a way to clean you up?"

All Dave gives her is a nod and a cautious sinking into the water. All you can see now if the top half of his face, his narrowed red eyes. There's more silence, a little more awkward than the silence from last night, it's pretty much turning into the staring contest that occurred last night. You're tempted to change the subject to something about where he's from or how he got oil all over him, but Jake pretty much beats you to the punchline as he leans forward and fixes his glasses.

"Golly, Dave!" he says in awe. "Those glowing scales of yours are just the bee's knees! What makes them do that? Do you kno-"

"Bioluminescence." You glance at Jake before returning your gaze to Dave, explaining further, "It's kinda like those fish Roxy used to keep here. Mostly the jellyfish."

Jake looks at you, impressed, and turns back to Dave with a quiet, "Wow..."

Silence settles again (damn it) and after a few minutes you hear the basement door open. Light floods into the room, the shadow of your bro in the doorway. "C'mon, kids," he calls out. "Food's here."

You bite back the urge to point out that you're all seventeen, hardly children at this point, but obey anyway and fight back a chuckle as Roxy groans loudly at the command. Apparently food isn't as important as a staring contest with a merman. Bro says that he ordered pizza tonight (Mom Lalonde was out for a book signing and had left Bro in charge of dinner - a bad choice on her part) and tells Dave that he'll bring him some if he thinks he can handle "land food". Dave merely rolls his eyes and you take it upon yourself to suggest opening a can of tuna and giving that to Dave instead of pizza. You're not sure if it's a good choice to suggest, but you're pretty sure Dave's more used to eating small fish than he is eating assorted toppings and overdosages of pizza sauce on top of beaten dough.

Dave seems to appreciate it, although he still complains that all you have to offer is tuna. Bro tells him to take what he can get until they figure out how long he'll be staying, and then leaves to go get the merman food. You and your friends just stand there, unsure of what to say, until Jane speaks up again and tells Dave they'll be back later to talk more. Roxy agrees loudly, throwing her hands in the air with a whoop, and Jake laughs at her as he waves to Dave. You all leave the basement, that jealous feeling coming back (seriously, how the  _fuck_ can you compete with a merman?), and pass Bro as he carries an opened can of tuna away from his nose. Jake turns to him and mocks him sligtly, asking if he's put-off by a little fish, and you can almost see the glare Bro sends back at the boy as he walks into the basement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I'm at a bit of a crossroad with the possible pairings I can do for this story, but I'm not sure if I should pursue them or not. Mainly with the pairing of Dirk/Dave, but I really don't know if I should go for it or just keep it with the one-sided Dirk/Jake =A="
> 
> [EDIT] Screw it, we're doing the Dirk/Dave!


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk does some sketching and hand-comparing, and a method of cleaning Dave's gills is devised.

Either Dirk Strider gets bored  _really_ quickly, or he wants to spend more time with you than with his "chums", as Jake would put it. You don't particularly mind, considering he's not doing much other than sketching half the time, and you're slowly - very slowly - getting used to not seeing Bro's face when you look at him. He always takes off his shades when he comes in, and you always immediately focus on the freckles.

You're pretty sure it's day seven in the fish tank (you finally learned what it was called yesterday) and the only way you can gather that conclusion is by the giant gaps between visits you get - mostly by Dirk or Mom. Dirk's usually the last one to see you, giving you extra tuna in case the last helping wasn't enough (you can't really complain, and joked a couple of days ago that he's trying to fatten you up for dinner. He probably sees that as a development in your saviour/victim relationship) and it's always either Dirk or Mom visiting you first after the long hours without talking to anyone. You've counted seven when you consider the first day you woke up, so all you can do is assume you've been here for a week.

He turns a page in his sketchbook, letting out a huff as he looks around for something to do - something to draw. Dirk looks over in your direction, and you immediately look away as if to say, "You don't have enough skills to draw me." It seems he ignores you, though, as he immediately scooches closer to you and presses his pencil to the paper. You pout, deliberately beginning to swim around to make sure he can't see you properly. He's pretty damn patient, though; he just sits there and watches with his casual poker face until you begin to slow down and eventually come to a stop. You try to flip him off (it's hard to do with webbed fingers, and you have no idea why his brother tried to teach you how to do it) and then swim to the surface, heading for the rim of the tank and pulling your upper-half out of the water. He stares up at you, waiting for you to say something, but all you do is lift your hand out of the water and let the liquid drip onto his head.

"Real mature," he says, running a hand through his hand and then shaking it to get rid of the water. Dirk returns to his sketchbook, and you're quick to drip more water onto him. "Dave, quit it. Lemmie draw."

"No," you huff, sitcking your tongue out at him. You know it's not mature, but to hell with maturity - you're a fish by in a giant tank with no adult supervision at all. You can do whatever the hell you want.

You drip water onto him a few more times, earning a frustrated groan at some point before he points wildly up at you. "So help me, Dave, I will turn the lights on," he threatens. You scoff.

"Do that and I'll pull you in the next time you bring me tuna."

He scoffs back and sighs, moving to his original spot and looking through his drawings. You let a satisfied smirk coat your face, diving back under and drifitng around while playing with the hem of the tunic. It's getting easier to swim in it, you note, and you can move around quicker than when you first started wearing it. You're also quite fond of it, you realised a few days ago; it's your first material possession that wasn't a knife made from shells and sticks.

You turn your attention back to Dirk, realising you've just zoned out for a good minute or so. He's sketching away hurriedly, obviously trying to get the shape of something before he gets in the details. You frown, but resist dripping water onto him this time. (The sketch better be damn good for this...) Eventually you get bored of sitting there, moving closer to see what he's drawn so far. Your night vision is excellent thanks to constantly being in dark water, but with the glass in the way you can't see the picture properly.

After a few more minutes of sketching, he finally looks up at you with a frustrated frown. He points upwards, possibly meaning he wants to talk to you, and you oblige. He makes is way to the steps, meeting you at the rim of the tank.

"Your hands," Dirk says as soon as he sits down. "I can't see them properly down there and you're moving around too much."

You roll your eyes. "Oh my God, Dirk, no." An exasperated sigh escapes you. "I'm not putting my hands out just so you can get the details of them down to the T."

"Come on, I sneak you extra tuna."

"Start sneaking me something else that doesn't get difficult to eat after a few days and I'll happily display my fingers for you."

"Dave."

"Dirk."

" _Dave_."

" _No_."

He leans back a little, looking as though he expects you to suddenly throw water at him and swim to the bottom of the tank. You're not going to, but the idea seems pretty tempting. Like,  _really_ fucking tempting. Actually, why aren't you doing it?

"You know what? Fine." Dirk leans back into his original position, frowning again. Dave, 1. Dirk, 0. "Describe them to me."

The look you give him is very much like the ones you used to give Egbert when he suggested the idea of getting involved with Rose a few years back. You look down at your hands with the same expression, shrugging. "I don't know, they're just hands."

All you get in reply is his palm flying to his forehead. "What?" you snap. Out of nowhere, he shoves his other hand toward you.

"Yeah, I know they're hands, but I need details," he presses. "Like mine - smooth on the top, calloused palm, long fingers and-"

He doesn't have time to finish, because you're freaking out when you notice the smallish scale-like things at the end of each finger and immediately grab the hand to get a closer look. Dirk jumps at the sudden movement, but damn it these things are more important than the potential risk of dragging him into the tank! He manages to get a grip on one of your wrists with his other hand, pulling it out to examine the hand as you freak out a little.

"Dirk, what the fuck are those things on your fingers?" you demand, generally not giving a fuck over the fact that the point you scored just went to Dirk and doubled for his move. "Seriously, what the fu-"

"No nails?" Dirk turns your hand over, an eyebrow quirked in question. "Seriously? Nothing but scales until the palm?"

"What do you mean, 'no nails'?"

"These things," he says, pointing the fingers you still have a hold of. "The little things on the ends on my fingers are nails. Something you don't seem to have. I'm just gonna go ahead and say now that they're on my toes, too, so we can save you the shock of Roxy doing something shoeless and freaking you out again."

"They're on your toes, too!?" He nods. You blink, horrified. "That can't- The seriously can't be normal..."

He raises a brow at you and calls you a pot, introducing himself as a kettle, and all that does is just confuse the shit out of you. Dirk rolls his eyes, tells you to forget it, and lets your hands go after a few more seconds of examination. He seems pretty happy to know tha they're webbed and that scales cover your fingers, with a few around your wrists as well. (Hell, he probably sees this as yet  _another_ step forward in the saviour/victim relationship.) You wonder when he'll start demanding to get a closer look at the fins on your face. He'll probably try to show the difference between his ears and yours and trick you again - but you're not going to fall for it again!

With a grumble in his direction, which is returned by a smug smirk, you dive back under and huddle in your corner.

* * *

It only just now occurs to you that you could've asked Jane what his hands were like. Three days later and it only just hits you. God damn it.

It doesn't help that this revelation comes to you while you're in the middle of a bowl of Froot Loops, and you can't help but drop the spoon back into the bowl right before you go to eat what was on it. Bro just looks at you weird while Roxy bursts out laughing (how the hell is she drunk at eight in the morning?).

Holy shit, you feel like an idiot...

You pretty much avoid going into the basement for a day or two, trying to forget about the fact that, hey, Miss Crocker over there actually shook Dave's hand and found out what it looked and felt like before you went ahead and tricked him into handing it over. Damn it, you feel like you should apologise to him for this.

And yet you're tempted to find out other things about him. It's weird enough that his hands are webbed and lack nails, on top of the fact that he glows red in the dark; what if there's more odd things about him?

Wait, when did you turn into a sober, curious Roxy?

So here you are, sitting in your room as you go over the sketches and try to finish them with details you can remember. It's about ten in the morning and Jake's still asleep in his bed - the two of you had stayed up late last night having a movie marathon, even when the girls called it a night and said you were crazy for staying up till four watching  _Avatar_. You will admit that you tried to put the moves on Jake, but the big point in that plan is  _tried_. You don't know if he's just uninterested or if he's plain old oblivious, but none of your subtle advances worked on him. You still have some time before he goes back home to try and woo him - (a week and four days; that isn't enough time!) - and even then you can just flat out tell him when the time comes for him to leave. If he decides that he doesn't like you back, you're more than certain you'll only hide in your workshop for three days.

No one else appears to be awake, from the sounds of it - not onless Bro decided to come out of his room and work on a new SBAHJ script on the couch downstairs - and you have to admit you're getting a little bored. You could always put on your shades and have a conversation with Lil' Hal. Ah, but you have a habit of talking out loud to Hal, and you might wake Jake. Maybe you could tinker with Lil' Sebastian? Nah, Jane hasn't complained about anything not working with the little guy. You're not particularly in the mood to talk to Caliborn, or Calliope, for that matter - you think Roxy might beat you to that by the time you get your laptop out from under the bed.

What does that leave? Talking to Bro or Dave.

Let's try Bro.

You crawl out of bed quietly, making sure not to wake up Jake, and manage to flash step to the stairs without misjudging the distance and tumbling down them. (Not that that's happened to you before, pfft.) You walk down them and head straight for the living room, spotting Bro passed out on the couch with a laptop on top of him. It certainly is a more graceful version of him sleeping on the couch (good God, you'll never forget  _that_ movie premiere). You're tempted to wake him for the sole purpose of talking, but decide,  _Fuck it_ , and make your way to the basement. He probably never realised that you could've asked Jane, therefore he probably just thought you stopped visiting for a few days for no reason.

You open the door, peer inside, and spot the Lalondes sitting at the top of the steps as they speak the Dave. You walk in when they look to you, joining them within seconds, and try to peek over Roxy's shoulder to see what she's writing. Roxy's quick to hide it though, and jokes about how you probably expected her to still be in bed. You don't bother confirming and simply turn your attention to Mom. Her black lips are pursed in thought as she looks between Dave and the tank, occasionally casting glances at his gills.

It takes a few minutes of silence for her to ask her question, but it's certainly not one you expected. "Do you think that morphine would work on a merperson?"

"What?" the three of you splutter. Roxy's quick to add on, "What makes you think that something that affects humans will affect Dave?"

"Well, the top half of him  _is_ human," she points out. "And I assume most of his organs work like a human's. Perhaps he would have the same reaction as humans would to morphine, unless we're missing a drug-resistent hormone stowed away in him."

"Wait, wait, wait," Dave says, swimming away from them a little. Run, Dave, run! "You want to drug me?"

Mom nods. "Only for when we clean your gills," she explains. "I've managed to come up with a plan to get the job done, but I don't know if it'll cause you pain or not. Thus, the question of whether you think morphine works on your kind or not."

You'll be damned, he actually considers it. And reluctantly agrees. He tells you that his gills are a little sensetive, and that the morphine would probably do him some good in not squirming around and making cleaning his gills difficult. You're shocked, to be honest. You thought he'd put up more of a fight over the issue.

Mom tells you and Roxy that she'll go wake Bro and have him help fill the bathtub upstairs with water, then pauses mid-step and tells you both to wake up Jane and Jake. The two of you obey, telling Dave you'll be back, and set off to wake up your friends.

For the four weeks they've been staying here, as well as the vacations prior, the duo have been sleeping in yours and Roxy's rooms in the spare beds. It's pretty much become the routine arrangement, and they even have their own spots at the dining room table. Not that it's used much.

It takes about ten minutes to get Jake out of bed, dressed to go down to the beach with a bucket to carry (hot damn, look at those legs), and then it's half an hour of you, Mom, Bro, and your friends carrying your own buckets of sea water to the house and into the upstairs bathroom. You tip them into the deep tub, making at least seven trips each before the tub is filled enough to keep Dave's gills in the water. Now for the hard part, Mom tells you.

You and Bro are tasked with transporting Dave - you're apparently the "most able" out of all of you; which is just complete bullshit, in your opinion - and it takes a few tries to pull him over the rim and out of the water. You manage to lift him, almost dropping him a few times on the way down the steps. ("Holy shit, you weren't kidding when you said he's heavy," Bro grumbles.)

("Right here, asshole," Dave growls back, attempting to hit Bro with his fin.)

You manage to get him to the tub before he dries out and suffocates, and soon enough Mom is looking through her medicine cabinet and fishing around for morphine. You don't even want to ask  _why_ she has morphine. She tries to inject it into Dave's arm, but it seems his skin is too thick for the needle to go through. (Have to stash that away in the mental notes.) You resort to valium pills (still not asking how she has those) and by the time they kick in Mom takes it upon herself to start flushing the merman's gills.


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave wants a hug from his bro and Jane sneaks him a cupcake. Dirk's Bro lets Dave know he's there for him.

You don't know how you ended up here, but you feel like you should've seen this coming when Mom said she was done cleaning Dave's gills. You should've expected him to still be weirded-out by the dose he was given, and you should've expected him to do something completely out of character compared to what you've seen from him so far.

Then again, nothing - no matter what - could've prepared you for Dave looking at you dazedly from the bathtub with his hands out toward you as he shouted, "Bro! I want a hug!"

Jesus fucking Christ.

That's the short version of how you ended up in the big bathtub, huddled with Dave as he drifts in and out of consciousness while his head lands on your shoulder before lifting again. Of course, Bro (your bro, you remind yourself, because finding out Dave had a relative by the same name is just so damn confusing) had some influence over the decision to play as Dave's brother ("Get the fuck in the tub before he starts cryin' mer tears. I'll buy as much Madoka shit as you want, if you do."). You like to think his offer was not needed, but it was pretty obvious you weren't exactly big on the idea of sitting in a tub with a drugged sea creature.

Okay, you lied; you know exactly how you got here. And God damn, is that reason filled with Puella Magi merchandise. Next time you'll have to demand he get more than just Madoka stuff, though; you never pegged Dave to be the clingy-as-fuck type of person when it came to mistaking a guy for his brother.

He shifts a little, brushing his tail against your legs, and you have never felt more awkward in your life. You're pretty sure he's asleep, and if he isn't then he must still be pretty loopy. You try to move away somewhat, but he simply holds onto you tighter with a whine of, "Bro, don't go."

Uuuuuuugh... Why did he have to sound so  _sad_!?

You reluctantly reach for his head and pet his hair, awkwardly saying, "I'm here, Dave," before feeling him relax and fall into another short sleep. You sigh, deciding to get comfy your spot, and continue to pet him until you know for certain that he isn't going to freak out when you move your hand away. As soon as he's in a deep sleep, you tilt your head back against the edge of the tub and close your eyes.

You must've fallen asleep, you tell yourself, because you certainly don't remember Roxy and Jane standing by the door with small smiles on their faces. Well, Jane's is small - Roxy's is slowly turning into a huge grin mixed with tispy giggles.

The temptation to throw a bar of soap at them is near-irresistable. You manage, though. Just barely.

Roxy and Jane don't tease you over this (which is a surprise, but Roxy soon assure's you it's Dave who's going to be teased), and one of them (Roxy; who else?) pulls out her phone to take a photo. You're actually glad you have your shades on right now, since they're pretty much the only thing keeping your discomfort unseen. The last thing you need right now is have a photo of you looking slightly disturbed float around on the internet. And let's not forget the fact that this picture has a merman in it - that would end messily.

It takes a while for Dave to fade out of his drugged sleep, waking up and immediately shoving you away and attempting to drown you from embarrassment at the same time. You manage to fend him off, but damn is he strong. He finally calms down after his third attempt to drown you, deciding to just sit where he is and pout like a spoiled child. You reason that Bro told you to get in the tub with him, but Dave seems to want to just ignore you. Fair enough, you decide. You're sure giving him some space will calm him down a bit more; get him back in a somewhat more talkative mood.

You climb out of the bathtub, telling Dave you and Bro will carry him back to the tank after he has something to eat; you leave the room in a hurry to change and dry off, finally able to get something to eat after all that time not being able to move. You never realised how much you loved Doritos and orange soda until now.

Jane takes it upon herself to feed Dave, taking two cans of tuna (and a poorly-hidden cupcake) to the bathroom for Dave. You raise a brow at her retreating form, glancing at Roxy to see if she's curious, but find that your cousin is too busy mixing rum into her coffee and going over her notes on Dave. You're still curious as to what she'd written down before you came in this morning, and you can't help but scoot closer to her while she's not looking.

You're almost able to read the first sentence when she snatches the notepad away and grins devilishly at you. You frown at her, shaking your head, and return to your orange soda with a deflated sigh.

"Y'know, Dirky," she says, swaying back and forth in her seat, "you could always ask me to read what I've found out about Dave."

You turn to her, unimpressed. You make sure to lift your glasses so she can see just that. "I just spent at least three hours being cuddled by a fish boy," you point out. "Surely I deserve to read the notes myself?"

"Nope!" She shakes her head and giggles. You're about to make a remark about her playing the cuddle buddy next time, but stop yourself when she gulps her coffee down in one go and refills her mug with rum. Probably best not to start a play-fight with a drunk Roxy - you almost couldn't get rid of all the viruses she put on your laptop last time. "'Sides," she goes on, clearing her throat a little. "It's not like my notes are about stuff we haven't already found out."

"Oh, so you've noted that he glows in the dark and likes to be a smartass sometimes?"

"Eee-yup!"

Damn it, you were hoping she'd accidentally let another fact slip out. Roxy downs the rum and leans back in her chair, the wooden frame creaking a little. Mom really needs to replace these chairs, you think to yourself. You'll have to bring it up with her when you see her next. "Although..."

You raise a brow. "Although?"

It looks as though she's debating on whether or not she should go on, but ultimately decides to continue. " _Although_ ," she repeats, "I may have figured out why Dave latched on to you when Mom was done with him."

* * *

There's a knock on the door, and all you can think is,  _Oh God, go away while I wallow in shame!_ Footsteps enter the room (damn it!) and soon enough you're looking up to see who dares to bother you. You swear, if it's Jake hoping to annoy you in a very John Egbert-like manner, you will personally crawl out of the bath and beach yourself on the tiled floor.

The footsteps stop just beside the bathtub, the worried blue eyes of Jane staring down at you. No, not worried; nervous. What's there to be nervous about, though? You're pretty damn harmless right now, despite how much it pains you to admit it.

Nevertheless, you act like you never even noticed the nervousness. "'Sup, Jane?" you ask casually. She jumps, fixing her glasses and kneeling down beside the tub to level herself with you.

"I thought I'd bring you your food," she says quietly. "Since Dirk's busy drying off and eating, I mean. Plus, I baked you a cupcake last night and thought I'd deliver it while I have the chance!" She smiles proudly as she displays a small, greyish item sitting atop two unopened tuna cans, and you can't help but wrinkle your nose in confusion and distaste. This tiny thing is a cupcake?

She shifts around and gets comfy, appearing a little more confident. "I bake a lot, being the heiress to Crockercorp and having a dad who bakes more than I do," she explains. "And this isn't the first time I've put fish into a cupcake, although they personally aren't my favourite. Roxy's cats like them, though! Especially Frigglish." She hands it to you, working to open the tuna cans when you do. "I only had tuna to work with, so I'm sorry if it tastes weird after all you've had already."

You shrug, examine the cupcake, and finally decide to give it a try when she looks at you with wide eyes. You take a small bite, expecting it to taste weid - as she said it might - but stop chewing midway when the flavour hits you all at once. You feel a sort of buzz - a sweetness invasion of your mouth - and it takes almost all your willpower to eat the rest of the cupcake without shoving it in your face like a maniac. When you're done, you find yourself craving more.

"So... You liked it?"

Having almost forgotten Jane, you jump and stare at her for a few seconds. Finally, you nod and ask, "Did you make more?"

She smiles widely - holy crap, you've never seen someone look so proud and so relieved in one expression - and hands you your first tuna can while she goes and grabs a few more. You happily wait for her, eating a few chunks of tuna before setting the now-empty can down and reaching for the next one. It's difficult to move around in the bathtub, the size just barely letting you sit low enough to keep your gills underwater, and it doesn't leave my mavourability for you and your rather large tail. You're overcome with pride when you manage to grab it, but frown when you find that your finger won't fit in the can's ring without tearing the webbing. Frick; goodbye pride, hello reliance on land dwellers to open a God damn can of fish.

At least Jane won't make a big deal about it, like Roxy or Jake would, you remind yourself. If anything, Jane looks like she'd stutter out an apology and promise double cupcakes for the next day. Actually...

She comes back in with a tray of cupcakes and holy shit your mouth's already watering. Now's not the time to drool over food, though; you need to try and trick her into making more!

You put on your best sad face and hold the can up for her to see. "Jaaaaaane," you whine. "I can't open the can. I'll hurt my fingers, if I do."

Jane pauses, kneeling down beside the tub, and hands you a cupcake in exchange for the can. "Aw, poor thing," she says. She opens the can in one easy move, handing back to you as you much on your cupcake. "I'm not gonna make more, though; don't think I haven't had Roxy pull the puppy eyes on me over sweets."

Damn it!

You place the can on the edge of the tub, munching on the cupcake with a pout as you sink into the water and look away guiltily. Jane shakes her head at you, sighing. "Dave, I'm going to leave you with a piece of advice," she says. You glance at her, spot the stern stare she's shooting at you. "Don't gorge yourself on cakes. I know they taste nice, but I'm pretty sure the last thing we want is for you to experience your first heart attack or for you to get diabetes."

A blonde brow arches, confusion nipping at you. You wait until you've finished your cupcake to ask her, "What's diabetes?"

She looks taken aback by the question, blue eyes going wide as she tries to think of an answer. You watch her expectantly. Jane shakes her head with a frown. "Something very bad that happens when you eat too much sugar," is all she says, and then she drops the subject altogether. You raise a brow, expecting more of an explanation, but she leaves it at that and makes sure you eat the tuna before you have any more cupcakes.

Jane leaves a while after that, telling you she might consider making more cupcakes if can behave well enough ("I'm always well-behaved; what'chu on about, Crocker?"), and like that you're alone again.

Huh.

You honestly weren't aware of how quiet the bathroom is.

Well.

This sucks.

You sink into the water, letting out a tired breath. You're lonely, wishing you had someone to keep you company (unless that someone wears weird triangles on his face or doesn't know the concept of pants); you almost wish Jane would come back so you can just chill with her, or even have Roxy come up and sneak you more of Jane's cupcakes. She seems pretty awesome, you tell yourself. Kinda sciencey and tipsy, but awesome.

Absently, your mind wonders to your friends. You wonder how Egbert and Harley are doing, and how Rose is faring with her "I told you so" rights. You wonder if, when you get back, John will say to you, "Told you about those waves, bro," and hug it out like the awkward shit he is. You wonder if Jade will fuss over you and call you an idiot, as usual, before demanding you tell her all about the surface. You wonder if Rose will follow you around everywhere and make sure Porrim doesn't let you out of her sight. Damn flighty broads and their insistence that you need to be looked after...

The tight feeling in your chest makes you stop, what you can only label as anxiety building up in you. You need to stop wondering about them, tell yourself they're fine, and remind yourself that these people plan on releasing you when you get better. You hope they will, at least.

You let out a breath once more, finishing off another cupcake (damn it, only three more left!) before hearing a knock at the door. You cast a wary glance, wondering who it is, before rolling your eyes at the sight of the older Strider. He makes himself welcome, leans against the shower as he raises a brow at you. You aren't sure what to say to him, or even what to refer to him as. As far as you know, he's just Dirk's older brother - at least, that's what Roxy's told you.

"So," he says.

"So," you mimic. He tilts his head to the side as though weighing up what to say.

"Name's D, although everyone calls me Bro." You're not going to call him that; not by a long shot. "I gotta say, I'm amazed your kind even exists."

You scoff at him. "I'm amazed your kind has those  _things_ ," you retort. "Seriously, what the fuck is up with those...' _nails_ '?"

D examines his hands self-consciously, frowning as he does so. "I don't see what the problem is," he says. "But whatever. I'm not here to talk about the best place to get a manicure. Came to see how you're holding up." His head nods towards the remaining cupcake, a blonde brow arching. "Looks to me like you're well enough to stuff your face with Crocker's cupcakes."

Acting on instinct, you scoop up the remaining three and cradle them to your chest as you snarl at him. That just makes him lower his shades to reveal his eyes - more so, his shocked expression. "Did you just fucking snarl at me?"

"My cupcakes," you growl. You're pretty certain he rolls his eyes - damn shades reveal absolutely nothing once he puts them back on - and a lapse of silence falls between you. He starts again when you start nibbling on one of the cupcakes.

"Your gills are in working order?" he asks. "No oil left in there? Nothing clogging them? The bath isn't too small, is it? Water's not too cold?"

You shake your head, refusing to say anything, and listen as he lists off more things to ask about - how the tunic feels, how your stomach is doing, whether or not you're ready to go back into the tank for some R&R. It's right when he asks this that you get somewhat fed up, stopping him mid-sentence with a loud, "Can you just stop and tell me what the fuck you're so worked up about?"

He freezes, registering your interruption, and answers calmly just seconds after. "I have a right to worry, don't I?" he asks. "I mean, I may not look it but I do give a damn when it comes to kids getting into trouble. Judging by the fact that you look around the same age as my lil' bro  _and_  that you've just spent the past week or so with oil in your gills, I have a pretty damn good reason to worry about your scaly ass."

The comment throws you off, leaving you staring at him with a cupcake right in front of your mouth as your jaw tries not to drop in shock. His reply was almost exactly how Bro would've put it - especially the whole "I have a pretty damn good reason to worry about your scaly ass" part. It doesn't help that, while you're stuck in your frozen state, he decides to kneel down next to the tub to look you in the eye. He even goes so far as to remove his shades, much like Dirk does when you're in the tank.

"Dave," he says sternly. "If there is anything wrong, make sure you come to me or Dirk or even Roxy - any of us. We want nothing more than to make sure you're okay before we send you back home."

All you do is stare, trying to figure out how eyes almost identical to yours can seem to intimidating and conforting in one go. You nod, letting him know you understand, and ask him for some time to finish your food before going back into your tank. He complies without argue, saying you have half an hour before "Dirk and I bust down the door and drag you to the fish tank like the heavy little shit you are". You manage to throw one of your cupcakes at him before he shuts the door behind him (back of the head! Fifty points!) and leaves you to your third and final cupcake. You frown at it, once again uncertain of it, but plop it into your mouth anyway before relaxing in the water.

You're not sure if you like D Strider. You're certain that you like Jane and Dirk better than him, even if you don't spend as much time with the blue-eyed girl. You wonder if you can tell him about Bro - at least to get rid of some questions regarding this morning with the whole "Dirk is Bro" incident. Maybe. Probably not.

You sink under the water, tired of questioning whether this man is someone you can rely on, and play with the hem of your tunic while you wait for the Striders to kick down the bathroom door. You will be very disappointed if they don't.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blarg! Done! I am so sorry if the ending feels a little forced.


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A date is set for Dave's return to the ocean, and a wild semi-plot appears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look, now we're getting somewhere! Enjoy a bit (really, just a tiny amount) of an insight to sirens and what happened to Bro, too. (Bluh I feel like I botched the ending y u do dis brain?)
> 
> ALSO! To find my writing blog, go to story-time-with-miss-moke.tumblr.com, and there you will more of my stuff (mostly original work or chapters of fics posted on ao3 as well)

The heat had been picking up every few days, the beach becoming more and more crowded by the locals within a one-mile radius. It's dampened the group's plans to throw Dave back into the water, let him be free like the beautiful creature unknown to man he is, and be done with mythical creatures for however long the universe plans to let them be; Mom's told them they'll pull through, though, and starts watching the weather for the perfect opportunity to haul Dave's ass out of the tank and return him to his people. His fish. Whatever.

Wait. You blink at the television, watching as the news programs cut to an ad break, and feel your attention slip again as some kind of demented infomertial starts playing. You quickly go over what you just thought, shaking your head to yourself. You did  _not_ just use the term "beautiful creature unknown to man" to describe the scaly little shit in the basement. No.

You lean back against the cushions of the couch, trying to get comfy again as Bro makes himself at home by sprawling over the couch and almost kicking you in the stomach. You swat his feet, shifting around again, and keep your eyes on the TV as he lifts his shades and rubs his eyes.

"Dave's been getting restless," he says out of nowhere. "Says he can't wait to get back to his friends."

You try to ignore the urge to ask if he's said anything, hopefully to do with his brother - Roxy's theory has been bugging you these past few days; it's hard to get rid of the thought that hey, this merman's brother, who is dead, looked just like you!

You fail miserably.

"You've been spending some quality time with him these past few days," you note, keeping your voice as even as possible. "He say anything to you?"

Bro immediately sits up and goes to pinch a cheek; you easily move out of his reach, although now you're uncomfortably folded over the arm of the couch. "Aw, is little Dirky getting jealous?" he teases. He flops back down, letting you sit back in your original spot. "I'm sworn to secrecy, lil' bro," he goes on. "Unless Dave specifically says I can let someone in on his personal shit, mum's the word."

"If only the same could be said about your interviews," you sigh. "You're seriously not gonna clue me in, though?"

"Not a damn word, Dirk."

Damn it. Why isn't anyone saying anything to you!?

"Speaking of interviews..." Bro reaches for the remote, turning up the volume. "I think they're about to play a clip from my last one."

You roll your eyes, letting out an annoyed sound, but watch anyway as the news reporter - some newbie you've never seen before, because that sure as hell ain't Katie Lowenthall - says something about Bro's recent off-the-radar status, and then leads up to the interview before his latest big movie release. Bro's watching himself on the screen with a smug, prideful stare, but all you can do is roll your eyes again and try to tune it out. If there was one thing you knew from experience, it was that D Strider tended to get a little full of himself in interviews. Only a little, unnoticed by the general audience, but for people like you, Mom, and Roxy, it's as clear as a cloudless day.

It's fucking annoying, too.

The interview suddenly cuts off halfway through Bro's rant about his inspiration for his movie - ("Oh, the usual; came to me in a drunken dream a few days after the last one came out.") - and goes back to Not Katie announcing some very serious news. A picture shows up to her left, displaying the beach just ten minutes away from the house, coupled with the subtitle " _Drownings on the rise_ ".

This can't be good...

"Turn it up," you say, momentarily forgetting that Bro turned up the volume just minutes earlier. Mom walks through, holding what you assume is a draft of her next novel; she sets down the paper on the coffee table and leans against the couch.

"What's this?" she asks. Bro shrugs and lowers his shades again.

Not Katie starts the report with slight hesitation, and you immediately assume this is her first report involving death. She regains her composure quickly, though (you've got to give her points for that), and begins the story. The beach has apparently been a hot spot for drownings these past few weeks, a total of four in the past six days just this week alone. Bro and Mom exchange a wary look before keeping their focus on the screen, listening to Not Katie go on.

It cuts to an on-the-scene report by a local police officer - Officer Pyrope; you're certain you went to school with her daughter when you were younger. Officer Pyrope tells the reporter that the deaths look suspicious, considering the signs of struggle and the bite marks present on all the bodies, and ends the five minute report with a promise to bring the case to a close. Not Katie tells the camera that they'll take a short ad break before continuing the report on D's latest interview, and then once again a shitty infomertial is being played before the three of you. Mom's the first to make a move and say something.

"Well," she says, letting a breath out and pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. You and Bro immediately look to her. "It seems we may have a problem getting to the beach this week."

* * *

"Hey, Jane?" You float around on the surface, drifting towards the bespectacled girl slowly. You've been mulling over what you're about to say, knowing full well that, with the amount of time you've been talking to the young Crocker heiress these past few days, she's going to understand almost perfectly. "I don't think I like your step-brother much. Probably not at all."

Jane looks up from the bowl she's mixing cake in (hot damn, what a time to be washed ashore) and gives you a quizzical stare. You're fairly certain she understands the concepts of how mers form relationships - it was pretty easy to explain, considering she's a lot smarter than she looks - but you worry a little that she's mistaking your admission to maybe feeling black for Jake as an admission to a desire to throw an empty tuna can at him.

Actually, you remind yourself, if she mistakes it for  _that_ , she's got the right idea.

She's silent for a moment before beginning her question. "Is it a platonic dislike, or...?" She lets it trail off, watching you as you reply with a small shrug. In all honesty, you're not quite sure if this is the general dislike you feel for certain mers you know, or if this is a dislike one would associate with mer romance. You're pretty sure Jane's going to try and steer you away from the latter. "I see," she says with a hum. More silence settles, and you're just about to hit the edge of the tank with your head again.

"I mean, yeah, he's okay considering I could've been stuck with people like the ones who took 'Tuna," you tell her, coming to a stop and turning to face her. You hook your arms over the edge, watching as she resumes mixing the cake mix, and go on, "But sometimes he says something really fucking stupid and I get more annoyed than I normally would with, I don't know, Cronus."

"Cronus?" Jane doesn't stop mixing, but she sounds genuinely interested. "Is he another of the mers you know?"

You nod. "Yeah, one of the big shots. Acts more human than mer, though - literally goes to shore solely to cook his fish, and then spends about half an hour fixing his hair." You shrug again. "Actually, I don't know if Jake annoys me more than that, to be honest. I don't even know if it's just one of those passing hate-attractions or some shit."

She lets out a small laugh, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Let's hope it's just that," she tells you. Jane doesn't elaborate as to why she hopes it is, merely keeping her attention on the mixture. You pout, demanding more of her attention (you're not going to deny it; you're a huge attention-seeker when you want to be), but she tells you to wait a moment before putting the mixture into the base and then handing you the bowl to clean. You float away happily, balancing the blue object on your stomach as you scoop out bits of cake mix to munch on.

Just as Jane goes to get up and put the cake in the oven (she was nice enough to explain how she makes her cakes yesterday), the door bursts open and three very hurried blondes are making their way to your tank. Great, something's probably happened and they're going to interrogate you about it. Hoo-fricking-rah.

It's D (you still refuse to call him Bro) who comes up to you first and demands, "Dave, do your kind drown people and eat them?"

You're taken aback by the quesion; all you can do is stare at him like he's just grown a pair of antlers. "What?"

"There's a news report," Dirk explains. "Said that people who have been drowning around here are coming back ashore with bite marks in them - and not the kind of bites you get from sharks."

The information sinks in ever so slowly, and all the while you're drifting further away from them. Your head hits the other side of the tank, the small impact making you jump, and you immediately swim back over to them and sit the bowl on the platform. Cake mix will have to wait for later.

"It's not safe to put me back in the ocean," you immediately tell them. They all give you quizzical stares - or at least you assume D and Dirk are giving you that look but hell if you know with their God damn insistence on covering their eyes. You shrug, looking to see if Jane is still in the room, and to your terrible luck she is. Dang it, you were hoping she wouldn't have to find out about one of the unpleasant mer side-effects. "Okay, so, it's not exactly mers that are doing it - we don't eat people. If we did, I'm pretty sure I'd know that you have nails."

Dirk lets out a breath, considering your answer. "So if it's not mers..." He frowns, letting the question hang in the air.

"Sirens," you say. "They're...like mers but not. I mean, they  _used_ to be mers, and fuck it they aren't still considered our family members and friends." You cut yourself off when Mom gives you a demanding, quirked brow, telling you to get on with your explanation; it reminds you so much of Rose's annoyed looks. "Sirens kind of used to be mers, and after having something really - and I mean  _really_ ,  _really_ \- tragic happen to them, they sort of lose sight of who they are."

"You mean they become mentally unwell?" Mom inquires.

You shrug again. "Eh, something like that. The change is physical, too. Skin turns dark grey, eyes change colour, they hunger for more than fish." You think back to your first - and only - encounter a siren, and immediately cringe. "The don't just eat humans."

They're asking you more questions, demanding to know when it'll be safe for you to go back into the water, but you just sit there, memories coming back in ways you wish weren't possible. It's all too clear to you as you stare down at your glowing tail: John's guardian being killed by the fishing net, Rose's guardian losing sight of herself and slowly turning into a siren, Bro - your guardian, the only other person you've ever felt pale for aside from Jane - trying to fight her.

Blood. Lots and lots of blood.

And then finally a threat to find  _you_ when she came back.

It's only now that you realise you're shaking. Everyone's silent, watching you, and you can feel the slow tears trickling down your cheeks. You're scared, for once. Not annoyed or shocked or surprised; you're absolutely terrified and fear for your life, despite the safety of the tank and the humans.

Before anyone can ask what's wrong or even question what sirens have to do with your tears, you push away from the platform and swim to the bottom of your tank. You curl in among yourself and silently sob, willing the memories to go away. Go away. Go away.  _Go away._

_No, Bro, don't go._


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleepover in a tank and story time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Describing a fish boy like a Dirk how do
> 
> More of Dave's story in the next chapter, too
> 
> (ashosdfkalsdalkdweoifhowdcnso ermagerd you guys thank you so much I wish I could just hug you all *squeals*)

You don't know why you're doing this. Thousands of reasons why you could be doing this are flowing through your mind, but you can't settle on one. You have no idea why you're doing this, but you're doing it anyway.

You push open the basement door a little, taking a peek to see if Dave has moved since earlier today. Everyone's asleep, or close to it, and as far as you know no one else knows you're down here. When you can confirm that Dave is still curled in on himself, hands over his face and shoulders shaking slightly, you slip inside and close the door silently behind you. He either doesn't hear you, or he doesn't want to acknowledge you. That makes it somewhat easier for you to walk up the stairs, stop at the platform, and observe him for a few seconds from your spot.

He looks so sad, you tell yourself. Something about the sirens must've triggered some horrible memories. You try to think back to what he'd said earlier, but all you can find relating to a bad memory is, "They don't just eat humans."

You let out a breath, toying with the pocket of your swimming shorts, and go over the estimations in your head. Out of everyone currently in the house, you're the one who can hold their breath the longest. Bro recorded about six minutes last time you all had a contest, but had stated you could've gone for longer had Roxy not jabbed you in the side with the claim you were a show off. (She'd been laughing the whole time, though, so you can assume she wasn't upset about coming second.) Jake used to live on an island in the pacific before his mother married Jane's father (and then passed away a few years back, bless her soul), but even back then all he did was run around on land and claim the water was never safe enough to go in. He hasn't had as much practice holding his breath like you and Roxy have, and Jane's no better.

As you estimate, Hal constantly messages you with times for how long you'll be able to get in and out of the water without exhausting all of your air. You're likely to be in and out within four minutes if Dave tells you to go away. You're likely to be in and out between six and eight minutes, depending on how well Dave responds to your plan. And you're likely to be knocked the fuck out before waking up on the platform again within five and a half minutes if Dave flips his shit at you.

Strangely, you like those estimates.

You set Hal aside, as well as your shirt, and breathe in and out as calmly as you can. Then, you take your position, hold your breath, and dive into the tank. It's a fairly decent dive, considering you haven't actually been doing much practice for a while, and the angle sends you hurtling straight for Dave. You make it to his side within seconds, your mental clock ticking away, and as soon as he turns to face you you wrap your arms around him and pull him in close. He goes stiff with shock, unsure of what to do, and for a second you think he's going to shove you away and slap you across the face with his tail. Except he doesn't; Dave instead returns the embrace, resting his chin on your shoulder as he squeezes you tightly.

In all honesty, you hadn't expected him to respond in favour of your plan. You'd expected him to be a pride-riddled little shit who would immediately push you away and tell you he's fine, that he doesn't need pity or comforting.

One of your feet brushes against his tail, and you swear you almost have a heart attack. You're reminded of stories where sharks bump their victims before taking out a chunk. Dave's tail doesn't feel like the placoid scales sharks have - no, if anything you would compare them to cycloid scales. Tiny cycloid scales that feel soft as your leg comes in contact with the tail again, hiding a warm muscle beneath it.

As you compare scales in the middle of your embrace, you feel the scales on Dave's hands bite into your skin. You hadn't noticed the first time you saw them, considering you were holding his wrist delicately while he marveled at your nails, but now it's all you feel aside from the strange amount of warmth he's emitting. You'd thought he'd be cold in the water, but he's letting off heat like his body is trying to prevent him from freezing - more heat than humans emit, too. You wonder if he gets warmer as he swims deeper into the ocean, but find the thought cut off when he squeezes you that little bit tighter. A little bit of air escapes you - not enough to cause panic, only about twenty seconds' worth. You recover quickly, petting his hair lightly as you had in the tub just days earlier.

It's just now that you realise you've had your eyes closed the entire time. The reminder that you can't see Dave's glowing red skin sets in, and you carefully open one in hopes the salt water won't sting. It doesn't, and you inwardly thank anyone listening, and soon enough you're opening your eyes wide to stare in wonder at Dave's glow.

_Beautiful_ , is the first thought that surfaces. You've seen it before, through the glass and water, but it's never been right in front of you, where the lights form clearer patterns and shape his tail. You're half-tempted to run a finger along the tail, trace the lights, but hold yourself back and let him keep his vice-like grip around you.

Your chest is burning, but you don't know why. You blink, trying to remember how long you've been under, and begin to panic a little when a specific number of minutes and seconds don't come to mind immediately. You tap Dave's shoulder; he pulls back, looking at you as though asking what's wrong, and all you do is point up before he wraps his arms around you again and shoots you both up to the surface. You count three strong strokes of his tail and immediately feel amazed at the strength of it.

You can't help but take in a deep breath when you surface. Dave's watching you cautiously, making sure you're not going to suddenly pass out and drown. You reassure him that you're okay, that you lost track of time, and let out a small breath before moving your hair out of your eyes. The gel you'd put in it today is starting to come out, but you can still feel a few spikes of hair sticking out in their own directions.

"Were you trying to make yourself pass out?" Dave demands, raising a brow at you. All you offer is a shrug. "And seriously, all you came down to do was give me a hug?"

"Didn't see you complaining," you tell him, and he begins to sink a little. He narrows his eyes at you in displeasure and mutters something in the water. You don't bother telling him to repeat himself, merely give him a playful shove before beginning to float around in the water. About twenty minutes later, he does the same.

You don't know why, but the moment the two of you bump into each other (more like ram each others heads together) you demand he tell you a story. He makes a point of giving you a look demanding to know if you're an idiot, but you just shrug again and say, "C'mon, one bedtime story. Gotta be a few mer tales I can catch some z's to."

"You're gonna fall asleep in the tank?" A single blonde brow raises in disbelief. "Just float around and  _sleep_?"

"Why the fuck not? I don't feel like getting out any time soon - water's nice."

Dave lets out a groan and floats around a little more. He bumps into you two more times, appearing to consider your demand, and when you collide for a third time he tells you to put your head on his stomach. Now it's your turn to give him the look.

"Have you ever fallen asleep in the water before?" he asks, staring at you like the answer's obvious. "No? Well, from the looks of concentration you're making to just stay afloat without letting your stomach dip too low, I'd say you're more likely to sink the moment you fall asleep."

"Oh, and laying my head on you will keep me afloat?" you scoff.

"No, it'll help me keep you from going completely under, should you begin to sink. Plus, you'll be warmer."

You're beginning to see less of a point in arguing with him. So you comply, swimming over to him and then floating beside him; you don't make any immediate moves to rest your head on him, which he quickly corrects with a frustrated sigh. The position feels awkward, and you're soon wondering if the story he's going to tell is really worth it.

He tugs on a bit of gel-coated hair, earning a jab to the tail, and then finally begins his story.

* * *

_There's something oddly interesting about shipwrecks, and you aren't the only one who knows it._

_As you're browsing the cabin, frowning at the few books on the shelf, you hear Aranea and Meenah race around out on the deck. They've found some jewels, they loudly announce; new crowns for Meenah, John, and Jade. It's more than you thought you'd find, you have to admit, but you're still a little let-down by the lack of swords and fancy hats._

_"Meenah!" Aranea calls. "Can you stop for a second and calm down? We haven't searched the whole thing yet!"_

_You continue to browse, grabbing one of the less-damaged books in hopes that Aranea would be able to put it to use. You find that majority of the pages are empty, and immediately stash it away in the small bag you'd found earlier. Also in the bag is alcohol, a now-useless gun, and a small pocket watch that has long since stopped telling the time._

_Just as you turn away, you hear Meenah let out a loud laugh and let loose a few fish puns - one of which is her chosen nickname for you: Redfin. You've heard of the fish she's named you after, and you know the only part of the fish that is red is, as the name suggests, its fins. You ignore the need to tell her you're more like a salmon, though, and accept the nickname as her way of making nice with you._

_Meenah, Aranea, and the rest of their group weren't originally part of your small, eight mer tribe. In fact, up until these past few years, it's always been you and your little tribe. Two royals - John and Jade - with two protectors - you and Rose - as well as four guardians between you. Now, with the addition of Meenah and Cronus, two extra royals, and the remaining ten protectors, you've got to admit that the tribe has grown nicely with plenty of safeguards in place._

_And there you go, thinking like Bro. He'd probably pat you on the back over the thought, then remind you that you've yet to get a weapon to protect with._

_You're thinking of using a sword from an old wreckage, like Aranea said she got hers, and you can't help but get a bit giddy inside at the thought of a real pirate sword as your weapon of choice. Rival tribes and sirens be damned, you're gonna be a fucking boss at swordplay with Bro and Aranea's teachings under your belt-_

_Ooh, a belt!_

_You scoop up the thing, wrapping it around your waist and buckling it, and then continue to search the room for goodies. You peek under the desk (cerulean pirate hat with a big feather on it, fuck yes), behind a worn-away painting, and finally through the desk's drawers (useless bullets for a useless gun and one forgotten topaz-encrusted bracelet; not a total bust, at least). You put the hat on and let yourself smirk, then prepare your most serious expression before bursting out of the cabin with a loud, "Who dares to steal from Captain Redfin!?"_

_Meenah and Aranea skid to a stop, Meenah's new crown (encrusted with diamonds and fuchsia jewels, coincidentally) almost falling off of her head. The duo are watching you with wide eyes, waiting for your next move, but all you do is shrug and remove the hat as casually as possible. "Yo, Aranea," you call, waving the hat a little. "Found this for you. Think it'd suit Mindfang's style?"_

_As quick as a whip, Aranea's by your side and taking the hat with wide blue eyes. She smooths her short blonde hair, smiling giddily, and then carefully settles the hat on her head. Meenah swims over, remarking that it suits the girl, and demands to know what other neat shit you've found in the cabin. You pull them out one by one - alcohol for Roxanne, a near-empty book for Rose, a belt and gun for Jade (as well as some bullets to go with her collection), a bracelet for Bro (because God knows you don't get him enough stuff to show your appreciation), and a pocket watch to offer as a peace treaty to Damara._

_Meenah nods in agreement. "She does collect that kinda stuff..." she mutters. "But why are you concerned about gettin' on her good side? I thought you didn't give a fuck."_

_"I tend to give a generous amount of fucks whenever someone creeps the shit out of me," you tell her. You shake your head at her, grinning a little. "C'mon Peixies, we went over this."_

_She waves you off, fixing her crown again, and then turns to Aranea once more. You compare your finds for a few more minutes, half of the jewelry Meenah's found dangling from her trident, and you immediately feel a little let-down at the quality of your spoils. At least Aranea's happy with her pirate hat, you tell yourself._

_The three of you begin to make your ways back to the cave, Aranea placing a marker at the top of the ship in order to find it again. Meenah questions why you haven't decided to give John any of your finds, but you simply wave her off and tell her the various crowns she found are going to be more than enough for him._

_It's a good half an hour before you get back to the territory, taking one of the crowns from Meenah and going your separate ways. Aranea thanks you again for the hat ("I am truly grateful, Cap'n Redfin!") and goes off with Meenah. You then set off to give away your gifts._

_Rose and Jade are easy to find, gossiping as usual, and you're quite pleased with Jade's reaction to her new gun. Rose reminds you snarkily that John's guardian had warned you not to go to old shipwrecks outside the territory, to which you reply with, "Just take the damn book and go write your weird land dweller fiction, already." She takes it without a word, but gives you a nod of thanks. Damara's next, easily found whispering what you can only guess is disturbing things to Rufioh every twelve seconds. You pull her aside, hand her the watch, and ask her if she's got one like it in her collection. She does, but she appreciates the sentiment. (Okay, so maybe she hadn't said it like that, but at least now she's not threatening to fuck your corpse with a Viking helmet. Ugh.) Next up is John, who practically squeals like a little kid when he sees the crown. He tackles you into a hug, spinning you around, and you almost have a heart attack when you nearly drop the bag - and, in it, Bro's gift. John tries it on, placing his old, handmade pearl and seaweed one on his small desk (man, was that hard to carry back from the last wreckage), and lets out another squeal._

_"This is so awesome!" he shouts. "It's got a bit of moss on it, but it's just perfect, holy shit!"_

_"Thought you'd like it," you say, leaving out the detail that Meenah had found it. He's had a hard time getting along with her every since she tried to impale him under the intention of becoming next in line for leader. Little does Meenah know, Jade's the one who comes immediately after John - and, as far as you can tell, Jade's a helluva lot tougher than John. Probably almost as tough as his guardian, actually. "Anyway, I gotta go and catch Bro before he goes off hunting with Roxanne."_

_John laughs, telling you to get a move on, and you leave him to dote on his new accessory. It doesn't take as long as you'd thought to find your guardian, the man just barely awake after one of his long-ass sleeps, and you wordlessly give him the bag before moving to turn away._

_He stops you before you can so much as begin to look for someone to hang out with._

_"Dave," he says sternly. You turn around slowly, waiting for his demand to know what the fuck you just got him. "Did you get this from outside the territory?"_

_You nod carefully, then shrug. "Not completely out of the territory," you mumble. "I mean, it's a little farther out than the last one we found but it was safe enough-"_

_"How long's it take to swim out there?"_

_A pause settles between you before you answer quietly, "Half an hour. I had Meenah and Aranea with me, though! Meenah even brought her trident in case we ran into trouble!"_

_Bro watches you with a small frown, amber eyes narrowing in thought. You think for a moment that you're about to get your ass grounded for at least a month for this, but Bro surprises you by taking the bracelet from the bag and clipping it on around his right wrist. "Oh, Captain Redfin, you certainly know a way to a wench's heart," he coos teasingly, making his way over to you and ruffling your hair. You flush red, because how the fuck does he know your pirate persona? "Seriously, though, lil' man; thanks. You just make sure you're careful when you go out there, okay?"_

_"Yeah, whatever." Your tone is full of nonchalance, but deep down you appreciate Bro's concern for your well-being. "Now hurry up and go catch dinner - I'm fucking starving here."_

_He leaves with an affectionate, "You little shit." You catch John's guardian, James, swimming over with Roxanne, and catch Bro joining them as they begin to make their way to the hunting grounds._

_Now to play the waiting game._


End file.
